


Worthy

by coffee_and_angst24



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Demonic Possession, First Dates, M/M, Post-Civil War, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:10:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffee_and_angst24/pseuds/coffee_and_angst24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony suffers from guilt and repressed feelings. Steve and him haven't quite gotten back to their past relationship after the War, barely functioning together in the Tower. Just has Steve goes to try to remedy that, a demon catches wind of Tony's repressed feelings and takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> The artwork was done by [onebilliondollarman](http://archiveofourown.org/users/onebilliondollarman/pseuds/onebilliondollarman) and you can find the art work [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/cap_ironman_2015_RBB/works/3940981)

Captain America was the only one in Avenger’s Tower when the radio signal came through. He suited up, jumped on his motorcycle and road out to the Brooklyn Bridge. According to the broadcast, there was a woman in distress, raving mad, on the bridge and not responding to police. He made it to the bridge and hopped off, meandering his way through the cop cars and yellow tape. He didn’t know what was going on but a woman on a bridge in distress in the middle of the night was never a good thing. As the crowd of cops and EMTs thinned and the scene came into view, he took everything in. There was a clear line the men and women in blue did not cross, giving the woman on the edge of the bridge space. She was dressed in a white thin gown and barefoot, which was odd considering it was a misty cold February night. She was crying and mumbling under her breath, alternating between clinging to the railing and scratching and mauling herself. A few of the men were poised on the balls of their feet, ready to fly to her side at any sign jumping and a woman was watching attentively, silent tears streaming down her face. He pulled up beside the Chief and asked for a status report.

            Without looking at him the Chief said,” Her name is Whitney Lawson. Her sister, April, called us a few days ago, saying that she was acting very strange and thought that someone was threatening her. Said that the girl would ask for “them” to let her go and to please leave her alone. She had no proof or anything so we let it go, but then we get a call tonight from the girl herself, claiming the “Darkness” wouldn’t let her go and that she needed help. We tracked the call here and she’s been non responsive since. It was like she was relieved when we first arrived, even started to run to her sister but then she jerked away and has been raving mad ever since.”

            Steve watched her and began to notice something strange. It was as if there was a shadow that followed her, surrounded her. He took tentative steps toward her, slow and easy, not wanting to spook her. He heard a whimper and turned to see the sister looking at him now, her eyes wide and pleading, her hands clenched to her mouth. He saw the desperation in her eyes and nodded, trying to convey reassurance. He wanted to promise her he’d fix this, but this was one situation he couldn’t no predict the outcome.

            He refocused on Whitney and began his slow steps toward her. He came close enough to hear her mutterings. Her hair was flying wildly in the breeze, her eyes constantly shifting from focused to crazy. “Holy Mary Mother of God…”

            He froze. She was praying? His heart dropped. A bridge, barefoot, middle of the night, and praying could only mean one thing. He took a chance.

            “Whitney, ma’am? Please, suicide is not the answer. Whatever your problems are we can help you…”

            Her head rose and they locked eyes, her gaze soft and sorrowful, then it began to sharpen with fear. He saw her body tense and suddenly her eyes went solid black and the shadow that he had seen earlier swirled outward around her body to take form behind her, its inky fingers threading around her neck and through her chest.

            “Oh Captain, you cannot save everyone. And isn’t that a pity?” A deep voice resonated from Whitney’s petite frame and with a terrifying laugh; her body was thrown backward over the edge of the bridge. Steve jumped in reflex to catch her but his hand barely touched the bottom of her dress as he watched her vanish into the Hudson. A scream erupted from behind him. He turned to see April flying at him and on reflex, thrust his arms out, blocking her from going over the edge after her sister. Her body collided with his arms and he wrapped them around her waist, keeping her safe as she struggled and cried out.

            He saw with April while the police filled out the police report, his mind racing with questions. What just happened? This was not just a simple suicide. Something was wrong, sinister.  The police were chalking this up to a mental psychotic break and suicide but that didn’t sit well with Captain America.

Once the police left him alone with April, he allowed her a few moments of peace. He let her go, hopped into the back of the ambulance and searched around for a blanket. He returned to her side and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, then squatted down in front of her so they were on eye level.

“Miss April, I need to ask you a few questions, if you are up to it.”

She nodded, her expression tired and sad, but open.

“Was your sister a religious person?”

April shook her head, her gaze dropping to her lap. “No, not terribly. She did pray and believe in a God but didn’t really go to church or anything.”

He paused. Belief in God, so that ruled out Satanist, though that does mean she believes in spirits.

“Is there anything you can tell me about her? Any secrets? Things that could have aided in her desperation?”

He knew it was a hard question, but it needed to be asked. Her eyes glistened and her saw her shoulders begin to tremble with the strain of her composure.

“Yes, early last year she found herself pregnant, but wasn’t sure who the father was. She was scared that she kind of lost her head a little, and had an abortion. It never sat well with her. She regretted it immediately and never really let it go. That was when she moved in with me, but I thought she was getting better.”

April’s aunt showed up at that moment to take her home, and he let them go, all the while his mind trying to put the pieces together.

He couldn’t get the image of Whitney’s eyes going from fearful to solid black, the black cloud that emitted from her body. He went back to the tower, checked in with Jarvis to see if Tony had made it home yet, and then headed to his room. Though it was approaching four in the morning, he wasn’t tired. His body was still wired with confusion, anger, and sadness. He could still here April’s cries of anguish in his ears, so instead he turned and headed to the gym and took his emotions out on the punching bag.

           

            -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The room was dark, the only light coming from a soft blue glow coming from the center of the bed. The demon could feel the negative energy emanating from the figure in the bed. It was delicious. The darkness edged closer, observing the auras surrounding the man. He was tense, even in sleep, clutching the blanket as if seeking forgiveness. Interesting. His etheric level was nonexistent, so no self-love or acceptance. The shadow rippled in approval. His vital level was a thick yellow band so rational. Good. He is inclined to not believe in demons leaving him vulnerable. Excellent. Astral level also a wide purple band, so seeks love and acceptance from friends and family. The shadow shivered, already having fun thinking about the havoc it could reek on taking that away from the man. And all were surrounded and dimmed by an inky cloud that threaded into all the layers of his aura, which was called the demon in the first place. The black energy was a calling card on repressed guilt, a poisoning inability to forgive that sucked in energy and transformed it, leaving one open to other beings to take control. The shadow bubbled and rippled in excitement, tasting the dark energy of self-hatred and despair. He contained so many emotions, guilt, misery, depression, anxiety, and _lust_. And the one he lusted for just made it all the sweeter. “He is perfect.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Tony wakes up sweating and tense, his chest heaving feeling like he couldn’t catch his breath. He must have had another nightmare. They have plagued his sleep ever since the War. Usually he remembered them, but this time he had no recollection of what he dreamed about. Strange. Shrugging it off, he clambered out of bed and headed for the shower. He let the water steam over him, the steam relaxing his tense muscles and tried to release some of the tension in his body. He hated waking up like this. He put a great deal of energy into repressing his emotions during the day only to have them swarm up over night so he woke with the heavy ball of guilt in his throat and fear in his chest. It was why he avoided sleep these days, only seeking slumber when Jarvis locked him out of the lab or when Steve bullied him to bed.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he headed for the common floor, wanting coffee and an escape from his room, which seemed heavy with unwelcome memories. Captain America was sitting at the table, cup of coffee nearly empty and left forgotten by his elbow. Looking up at Tony, he said, “Good morning Tony.”

Tony grunted, heading straight for the coffee machine. As he poured the coffee into a mug, he inhaled the dark roast, willing his mind to empty and wake up. He heard a chair scrape back and Steve clear his throat behind him. Turning, he eyed Steve over the rim of his mug, raising one eyebrow in question.

“Got something on your mind, Winghead?”

Steve seemed to blush, which caused both of Tony’s eyebrows to shoot up. Steve raised a hand and scratched the back of his neck, then seemed to solidify his resolve and locked eye contact with Tony.

“Tony, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now actually but have been trying to give you space but I just…”

All the feelings Tony had been ignoring since this morning returned full force as his mind streamed all the reasons why Steve would want to talk to him. Things hadn’t been the same since the War, and how could they be? The things that Tony had done...

“The thing is something happened last night and I just can’t…I’d like to spend some time with you. I’ve been wanting…I want…What I’m trying to say I guess is would you have dinner with me?”

 “Um, yeah definitely, sure thing Cap, I…Yeah, you wanna go tonight? What are you in the mood for? Burgers? You always liked a good burger. I didn’t realize you missed our family dinners so much…”

“No Tony.”

Tony froze, staring at Steve.

Steve grinned a bit. “Not like a family dinner. A date. I want to go on a date with you.”

Tony was stunned and just stared at Steve with his mouth slightly open. Uncertainty began to creep into Steve’s eyes.

“Shellhead?”

Tony jerked, the nickname causing a flash of warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. A date. Could he really mean it? He thought Steve barely tolerated his presence, but a date meant…realizing he was still silently staring he gave Steve a grin.

“Yeah, a date. Yes, sure Steve. A date, wow yeah we can definitely, just give me a time and place and I’ll be there. Let Jarvis know and he’ll tell me because I got to go…work on some stuff…in the lab you know, but yeah a date. Yes. Yes absolutely.”

Steve’s face glowed as he smiled brightly at Tony, stunning Tony further. It was like looking at the sun. He quickly exited the kitchen, his mind tripping over why Steve would want a date with him as he made his way down to his lab. The look on Steve’s face as he asked him, the quiet earnestness and warmth in his eyes, made Tony’s heart flutter. It felt like before, the lightness and the easiness between them. Maybe Cap had put everything behind him. Could they really start over? A fuzzy feeling, sort of like carbonation, fizzed through his veins, making his body feel weightless. With a hop in his step and a date to look forward to, he smiled and cracked his knuckles, turned up some music, and got to work.

He let his mind drift while he tinkered on his experiments. Ever since the War, his relationship with Cap had been, strained to say the least. He didn’t know where they stood. Before the War, they had been so close. Best friends, teammates, partners, maybe even more than that? They had become fast friends, Tony falling for Captain America hard. He had started to form feelings for Steve in the beginning, when he had to keep his identity a secret. It was so easy then, because he could long and ache for him all he wanted as Tony Stark, but could get as close as he wanted as Iron Man. Then once he revealed that Iron Man and Tony Stark were one and the same, he had to face reality. He couldn’t be in love with his best friend. There were rules about that, sensible rules that were made for a reason.

He had thought his days of pining were over, but evidently not. All it took was Steve to look at him with that hopeful, glowing look and his heart was thudding away and he was dreaming of the past. But they couldn’t go back, not to the way it was before. Things were different, irreparable, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. The minute he headed the Pro-Registration movement, and Cap the Anti-movement he had put up a wall between them. And he was ok with that. Had accepted that as his fate. But now? Cap asking him out on a date? That threw him for a loop. What was he supposed to read from that?

Suddenly, a wave of aggravation hit him. Exactly what was Steve trying to accomplish? They are barely being civil with each other, have been avoiding being alone with each other for weeks, only really talk about work, and now he suddenly wants to have dinner? He threw his wrench down on the table and stood up. He needed some air, needed to think.

Tony left the tower and started walking. He was suddenly restless and couldn’t sit still. He needed to burn off this energy. He got lost in his thoughts and in walking. He wasn’t really aware of where he was going. He just knew he needed to put space between him and the mansion. At first he didn’t notice being jostled by the crowd, but soon he became aware of bumps against his shoulder and his agitation increased. Something was wrong. He made his way to Central Park in order to avoid the cramped crowd but instead was met with a flood of tourists. What made him think coming here was a good idea? He changed direction and started running. Nothing was making any sense. Since the moment he woke up, he had felt off. He had no patience, which wasn’t anything new but he still had never been this emotional. He found himself on some gritty back street, not really sure where he was but knowing it was nowhere safe. He began walking again, head down and hands in his pockets.

A scream from behind him rattles his ears and he quickly snaps out of whatever trance he was in and takes off toward the sound. He turns a corner and sees a large man holding a woman against the brick of a building, his hand clamped over her mouth.

“Let her go!”

The man turns and smiles at Tony. “If you insist.”

The man slams the woman’s head hard against the brick and with a small cry she collapses at his feet, blood dripping from her forehead. Outraged he turned and grabbed the closest thing he could see, a piece of thick scrap metal leaning against the wall, and charged. He didn’t know this man, but he suddenly embodied all his restlessness and his frustration, and he hated him. He attacked, hitting him with the metal bar over and over again. Even when his hand was dripping blood and the man had stopped moving, he brought the bar down on his body. The only thing that stopped him was a small gasp the sounded behind him, and he turned to see the woman had come to and was looking at him in horror. She crawled back and stumbled away, obviously more scared to stay with him than to walk through town with a concussion. He looked down at his hands covered in blood, then at the man at his feet beaten to a pulp. He was still breathing, but barely.

Tony dropped the bar, called 911, and then headed back in the direction of the tower. He wiped his hands on his knees, trying to take the stain off his skin. What had gotten into him? He had never had those kinds of impulses before. He couldn’t remember details. The last thing he remembered was leaving the lab. He looked up and realized that the sky was dark blue. It had to be late in the afternoon. How long had he been walking?

He was exhausted by the time he made it back to the tower, emotionally and physically. Tony quickly went up to his room, rubbing his temples. He wondered briefly if this is what Banner felt like, flashes of angry and violent thoughts bombarding his mind, uncontrolled and unwelcome. That thought stopped him in his tracks. Banner. Was he exposed to some sort of gamma radiation? He did a about face and reentered the elevator, intending to go find either Jarvis or Bruce, but instead came face to face with Steve.

Tony froze, not knowing what to do. He rose a hand to the back of his neck and scratched at his hair.

“Uh, hey Winghead! What’s up?”

Steve didn’t move. His eyes moved over Tony, not missing a single thing, and Tony’s heart dropped.

“Where have you been Tony?”

“Oh nowhere.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “You have blood on your knees.”

Tony looked down and realized the blood he had wiped on his pants had left nasty rusty streaks across his thighs and knees.

“No on goes nowhere and gets blood on their knees.”

“Uh…you know, I went for a walk and while I was walking someone hit a dog. I stopped and helped and must have gotten a bit dirty. No big deal! Hey have you seen Banner?”

Tony was desperate to get away from Steve. He was just standing there, calm and observing and he could just feel him looking into his soul, knowing he was lying. He started rocking on his feet, itching to move but Cap was still blocking his exit.

“No, everyone is gone. I told them to let us have the tower tonight. For our dinner.”

And with those words, Tony really looked at Steve. He was dressed in slacks, pressed and tailored, with a crisp button up shirt. His hair was styled and his shoes shined. He looked ready for a fancy date and Tony’s heart sank to his stomach.

“Yes, our dinner. Sorry, I lost track of time. Let me run up and shower and I’ll be right back down. Looking forward to it!”

And with that he dashed behind Steve and bolted for the elevator.

Cursing, he walked out of the elevator and power walked to his bathroom. As he stripped and started to shower, his thoughts trailed one after the other, tumbling over each other. Was it possible to have been exposed to radiation? Was he a threat to anyone? What else could have happened? He was missing something. He could feel the answer, teetering in the back of his mind just out of reach. Suddenly his concentration was torn apart by a vivid vision. The soap on Tony’s hands turned to blood and the shower water ran red. Tony’s mouth began to water and the urge to kill something became overwhelming. He gripped his hands into fists, pressing them into his side and squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to control himself against the onslaught of rage. The drive to lash out, to hurt, to kill beat against the inside of his skin until he was left bruised and bleeding but he managed to stay in the shower, the steam whirling around him, making him dizzy. The emotion released him and he screamed in frustration, slamming his hands into the tiles of the wall. He sank to the floor, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He examined his skin for tinges of green but saw nothing but his tan flesh tinged pink from the heat.

            The answer hit him in the center of his chest, knocking what breath he had managed to get back out. Flashbacks. PTSD. He was having episodes. Guilt swamped him. He deserved all he was getting then. This was his penance. This was the price he had to pay for the part he played in the War.

            No longer afraid but depressed, he wobbled out of the shower; dried off, and got dressed. The absence of violence had left him empty and tired. He slowly pulled on his slacks, sloppily buttoned his shirt, and slid on his jacket. He stared at his rack of ties but passed, not thinking he could tie it properly with his shaking hands. Whether his hands were shaking from the fit he had in the shower or the nerves that were quickly appearing facing this date, he wasn’t sure. He faced himself in the mirror and stared at his reflection. He was not a good man. He had never been a team player. He always had put his own desires and goals before others. He was just an alcoholic, billionaire, playboy who had tried to play hero but failed. And oh how he had failed! He had taken all that he loved and thrown it away, shot it down to dust, obliterating all chances of ever being loved again. What was the point of this date? There was no going back to what Steve and him had. Steve hated him. How could he not? And yet he had asked him out, had even blushed when he asked.

No, Steve didn’t care for him. What had he been thinking? He must want to spend time with him just so that he could finally tell Tony how much he hates him. That was the only logical solution.

            He scrubbed his face hard, trying to dispel the dejection that weighed heavily on his soul. He exhaled, decided that if he was going to finally hear what Steve had to say, he would do it with a head held high and the little amount of dignity he still had. He exited the penthouse and went down to the community floor, where all furniture was moved but an intimate table for two; complete with a pristine tablecloth, candles, and fine china.

            Tony walked up to the table and met Steve’s eyes where he stood behind his chair. He noticed Steve’s eyes sparked with approval, as he looked him over which just made Tony flush. He was so tired he didn’t even try to read into Steve’s actions and just took them at face value. He gave Steve a small smile, which Steve returned and then some. They both sat down and Jarvis entered the room with a bottle of wine. He smiled at both of the men and filled their glasses.

            “Thanks Jarvis.”

            “My pleasure, Captain Rogers.”

            Once he was done, he retreated from the room, leaving Tony and Steve alone together. Tony didn’t reach for his glass. He just stood there and waited to see what Steve’s first move would be. Steve took a sip of his wine, and then said, “So was the dog ok?”

            Tony scrunched up his face in confusion. “What dog?”

            Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he placed his glass back down.

            “The one that you helped after it got hit by the car.”

            It took Tony a few seconds to catch up and then realized that he screwed up, because in the few seconds of his silence he could see the anger mounting in Steve’s eyes.

            “Where were you today? Why lie to me?”

            Tony leaned back in his chair with a huff and rubbed his eyes hard. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

            “Look Steve, I’m really tired…”

            “Well tough! You can talk to me, what happened today? Something is wrong, I can sense it.”

            “Nothing is wrong…”

            “Don’t lie to me!”

            “Steve I’m just…”

            “Tony you can tell me!”

            Tony started getting really aggravated with Steve continuously interrupting him. He wasn’t listening and he really didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t have the strength for yet another lecture from Captain America.

            “Look, maybe we should do this another time…”

            He started to get up but Steve shot him a deadly look.

            “No we are going to do this right now! You sit down and we are going to talk about this. No more avoiding.”

            “I’m not the only one avoiding you, you know. You can’t blame this all on me.”

            “No you’re right but you are the one who isn’t helping resolve anything, instead its as if you want us to stay dysfunctional.”

            “We are not dysfunctional…”

            “Tony, I’m trying really hard here, can you please not fight me for once?”

            And with that he exploded. He was right. This was about Tony being a disappointment, always fighting and always making the wrong choices. Well, he wasn’t going to take that anymore.

The air in the room became electrified, thick with power, as the candles writhed then went out all together. Tony gripped the table until his knuckles were white, and yet he wanted to grip it harder. He wanted to make his blood run and to feel pain. The shadows cowered away from them, leaving the room void of any presence beside themselves. It was as if the evil inside him had sapped all other life out of the room. He saw Steve take a deep breath and lean in, and suddenly his vision ran red around the edges.

            He crashed his hands down on the table’s surface, causing Steve to jump back. Tony leaned in, a menacing leer on his face. Steve was too pure, too good. How dare he judge Tony on the decisions he had made? Steve followed orders, didn’t truly think for himself. He was nothing compared to Tony. These poisonous thoughts filtered through his mind and spiked his anger and his thirst for violence. He didn’t understand where this was coming from but couldn’t fight the overwhelming urge to hurt.

            “Captain America.” He sneered. “I know what you are going to say. Why you agreed to come here tonight. And you know what? I don’t want to hear it.”

Tony tilted his head up so that he was looking down at Steve, a filthy smirk on his face as if he was looking a bug.

“You are beneath me. You are nothing but a soldier, a pawn in the game of politics and power. You think that you are better than me? That I am the villain because of my money, my choices, my beliefs? Well you are nothing! You are nothing but an accident that stands for ancient values that no longer apply. This is a new America and you are misplaced and outdated.”

            Steve sat shocked but as Tony spewed his venom, an angry blush began to spread from his neck to his face. He stood up quickly, throwing the seat back and shouted.

            “Tony what has gotten into you? I came here tonight to be with you, to talk to you!

This isn’t like you. What is going on?”

            His vision cleared and he pressed his palms into his eye sockets hard enough to make him dizzy. These mood swings were getting more and more aggressive, going from violent to devastating, leaving him exhausted and weak. He was losing strength in fighting this, and he still had no idea how to get rid of it. How do you fight something that is inside you? How do you fight something that only speaks the truth? He deserves to suffer for what he has done.

            He looks up at Steve, and once again the need for violence flares and he grabs the steak knife. Holding it in his hands, he sees himself stabbing Steve with it, over and over, so many times that his super soldier body won’t be able to heal him fast enough.

            No. No he had to get away. He ran from the room as fast as he could, knife still clutched in his hand.

            “Tony!”

            Steve took a few steps to follow Tony when he saw it. A black cloud surrounding Tony as he ran from the Tower. His heart dropped to his feet as his world came crashing down. He had seen what this evil could do once already. He wouldn’t let it have Tony. He ran to his room, suited up and then hurried out the Tower to follow Tony.

            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Tony ran. Once again he found himself running with no clear destination, just knowing he had to put as much distance between him and Steve as possible. Whatever was wrong with him, he couldn’t, wouldn’t let anything happen to Steve. He ran, but couldn’t quite outrun what was happening inside him and found himself once again, at the Tower with no memory of how he got there. He could feel his neck roll casually but wasn’t conscience of doing it. Something was controlling his body. What was going on? He tried to talk, to move, to do anything but nothing was responding. He felt ropes bounding his body to a chair, and realized that Steve must have captured him.

            “I’ll ask you again, what have you done with Iron Man?”

            That was Steve’s voice. He saw Steve standing in front of him, dressed in his Captain America uniform, a gun trained on him, expression hard and commanding. He tried to speak, to tell Steve he was still here but nothing happened. He was a frozen consciousness in his own body. He felt himself laugh menacingly and fear rippled through him.

            “Aw Captain Rogers, we both know that you won’t shoot your precious Tony Stark, so why don’t we put the gun down shall we?”

            “Answer the question!”

            The demon inside Tony’s body shrugged his shoulders.

            “If you insist, I have done nothing to him. Just borrowed him for a moment and brought to light the truths that he has been denying himself.”

            Tony felt all the guilt and repressed feelings begin to smother him, winding around him until he was tied down with no escape. Flashes of his dead friends blew through his mind, freezing on the image of Steve himself, lying cold with his shield. He felt his heart break at the same time he felt himself smile.

            “You see Tony here has so many regrets, so many sins, and so many _secrets.”_

            Flashes of his secret fantasies, of Steve kissing him, touching him, being with him, started rolling in his head and if he could have he would have closed his eyes. This was torture, being locked in his own body, subjected to watching his own wants and mistakes. The demon looked at Steve, allowing Tony to see Steve’s confusion, how he tried to keep a straight face though Tony could tell Steve was itching to act, but what could he do? What was there to do?

            “Here, let’s see what Tony himself has to say, shall we?”

            Suddenly he found himself in full control. He could still feel the evil presence lurking in his mind, but when he opened his mouth to speak, his words came tumbling out.

“I am nothing but a failure Steve. I do nothing but bring you down. I’m a weight, a villain, a selfish arrogant billionaire that isn’t worth the money in his bank account.”

            The crushing weight of despair pushed harder on his chest, squeezing the fight out of him. He sank into the depths, wallowing in all the doubt and guilt and self-hatred. There was nothing but blackness around him, no light, no softness. There was no relief to his agony, to the searing belief that he was unloved, unworthy, and beyond saving. He was beyond salvation. The firm and unwavering belief caressed his jaw line, circled his neck, and began squeezing until he could no longer breathe, leaving him a gasping, flailing wreck on the floor.

            “Tony! Tony can you hear me?”

            “Run Steve,” he rasped, making no attempt to escape the fate he felt he deserved. “Save yourself and leave me. I’m not worth your time.”

It was ironic, really. That he would fall in love with someone so just, so right, so pure. He flew too close to the sun, hoping to be cleansed and to become a part of the light, but got burned instead and the light was his undoing. He could feel the filth inside him, just knew that his soul was rotten, bruised and ugly deep down. The grip around his neck tightened, another rock of despair added to the pile crushing him slowly.

            “Tony, stop it! I’m here for you. Don’t you see? Through everything I have never once given up on you! Nothing on this earth could make me leave your side.”

Steve took the few steps toward him and knelt at his feet so that they were eye to eye.

“You may think you are evil, your soul dark, your sins too great, but I am here to tell you you’re wrong. You are wrong Tony! You are a hero, a leader, a inspiration. Not all of your decisions were right, but they always had a good motive behind them. You always meant well in your heart, even if your mind wasn’t on the same page. Tony, listen to me!”

            Tony squeezed his eyes shut, his body tensed, coiled up tight against Captain America’s plea. His words burned. They were painful to hear, searing against the blackness and causing it to writhe in distress and anger. He could feel the grip of his belief loosen, allowing healing, cool air in and a bit of the miasma washed away. His heart sped up, anxiety ratcheting up higher as the power behind his misery churned in agitation. He tried to warn Steve, to tell him to stop but he couldn’t get the words out. The demon had sensed weakness and had taken possession again. It was just another failure to add to the list, the inability to warn his friend. The darkness pulsed, once again pushing down on his chest, feeding off his self-hatred.

            “Come to me, Tony. You are worth it to me! You may be confused and battered but you are not broken. You are Iron Man! You are the most brilliant man of the century. Your life has been full of things that bring you down. Come to me, Tony. Let me bring you into the light. You don’t need to change anything or do anything to make me believe you are good enough. Don’t let this depression, this power end this life that you have spent wrapped up in your lies! If you can’t be honest with yourself, then let me tell you the truth. You can trust me. You are worthy. Come to me Tony!”

            Tony began seeing a small light out of his reach, growing in diameter as Steve spoke. The darkness churned in anger, lashing out at Tony, scratching and clawing at him, trying to draw him deeper into its depths, but Tony fought. He wanted to believe the words he heard. He wanted to believe that Steve cared, that he could be saved. He fought against the presence, wincing as it began to scream, filling his ears with a shrill cry that drove him insane. The miasma cleared, leaving him clear eyed and lucid for the first time in days. He physically felt the demon clinging to his insides, seething, wanting to cause harm.

            The demon sensed the rallying strength in Tony, and instead of reinforcing its hold on him, began whispering intentions of going after the weakness Steve showed during his plea. Voices in his head erupted, arguing, but the intention was clear. Its desire had changed. It wanted Steve. Steve who was one of the only consistencies in his life; Steve who claimed to care about him despite all his flaws and mistakes; Steve, who he had been in love with since childhood. He couldn’t let anything happen to Steve. Not again. Not after he had just gotten him back.

An eery glow began to take over the room, and knowing what was coming next, Tony reacted.

            “No!” In a desperate attempt to keep Steve safe, Tony opened his mind to the force of possession, thinking as many self-defeating thoughts he could to encourage the spirit to stay. It bubbled in happiness, and he felt it latch onto him aggressively, and his vision went red. He could see, hear, but couldn’t move. He tried to move his arms, his legs, but he was no longer in control. He felt his hand move into his pocket and could feel the knife in his hand. Steve’s face was white and scared, and he had never hated the look of fear in his eyes as much as he did in this moment.

            “Well well well…” His voice was twisted, haunted, and hollow. He felt the knife being twirled in his fingers playfully and felt sick.

            “You are just in time for the show, Stephen Rogers.”

            With a twist of his wrist, the demon cut through the ropes holding him to the chair. He stood staring at Captain America, laughing from deep in his belly, his eyes black and empty.

            “How does it feel, Captain? To know that you are powerless once again?”

            Steve growled and lunged, colliding bodily with Tony and rolled with him on the ground. He put all his superhuman strength into his punches, taking out his anger and helplessness out on Tony. The demon pushed his feet up and threw him off, but Steve landed on his haunches in a crouch and ran straight for him again. The demon flipped over Steve then slashed the knife across his back, cutting deep but not deep enough to stop him. Steve turned quick and launched his shield at the demon, knocking him backwards into the wall. They wrestled and punched continuously, two bodies at war for one soul.

            Suddenly Steve stepped away from Tony and threw his shield aside.

            “Tony, if you can hear me, I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told you. I loved you before the War and even though I was furious then and am still angry, I still love you.”

            Tony could see Steve’s torment from within his body and had enough. He loved that man, and that man, through all his mistakes and sins and problems, loved him back, and nothing was going to stand in the way of the two to them. He fought back control, not satisfied with lying down and giving up anymore. One by one, the stones of guilt lifted until that little light shone so bright that he was able to reach for it. The demon inside him screamed in agony as it burned in the light, and Tony screamed as his soul was cleansed of the evil.

            He came to and saw Steve leaning over him, his face bloody and dirty, eyes worried.

            “You with me Shellhead?”

            He smiled, then winced when his torn lip twisted. “Yeah Winghead, I’m with you.”

            Steve’s smile warmed him up and he leaned down and kissed him. Tony melted into the kiss, even though it tasted of blood, because it also tasted of heaven. Steve kept the kiss soft, just a grazing of lips but it spoke of everything neither of them could say.

            “Let’s say we give this date thing another try?”

            Tony laughed and pulled Steve down into another hard kiss. “Absolutely.”

 


End file.
